


Ember House

by TasarienOfCarasGaladhon



Category: Avatar (TV), Avatar: The Last Airbender, Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Disney References, F/M, Grumpy Zuko, Katara has a thing for Zuko's wings, Lots of healings, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Ozai is even worse than in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasarienOfCarasGaladhon/pseuds/TasarienOfCarasGaladhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zutara Secret Santa gift for Reyn, 2015 edition. Created from two of the following prompts: </p><p>1. Zuko proposing to Katara<br/>2. Zuko the DRAGON and Katara the witch<br/>3. Disney crossovers<br/>4. Sound of Music AU<br/>5. Sokka being the one to set them up</p><p>For six years, Katara has lived in enemy territory, hidden away under a false identity. For six years, she's wondered what became of her father and brother, listened with a sinking heart to news of the war, and practiced her bending in secret. Now, as she rescues a strange, bald kid from a giant ball of ice, she will be sucked into a tale of mystery and legend as a careless run through the woods leads to her sacrificing her freedom for Aang's, and Katara finds herself living at Ember House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kimi of the Inn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyn/gifts).



> Happy super belated holidays, Reyn! I stupidly injured my hand in mid-December, when I still had thousands of words left to write on this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and are having a fantastic year so far.

As a child, Katara had always loved tales of mythical beasts, from the mighty sky bison to the trickster spirits of the ocean and the fire-breathing dragons that took human form. She had often drifted off to sleep, sandwiched between her older brother Sokka and her Gran-Gran, as Mom read from the well-worn scrolls. She could almost feel the warmth of the furs and smell the jerky Dad was preparing over the fire.

 

These days, there was no myth, no magic. Far too young, Katara had found out that the world was at war, and her small tribe had become a footnote in the Fire Nation's military history. They had come with fire and tanks and death, destroying their homes and tearing apart families. Thinking of Mom and Gran-Gran was an icy fist around her heart, even six years later.

 

“Kimi!”

 

With a sigh, Katara dragged herself out of bed, squinting at the bright sunlight. Her new life was repetitive and lonely, though she _was_ grateful. With Dad and Sokka off fighting in the war, Katara had been smuggled through the Earth Kingdom and into the Fire Nation, now the home of _two_ Southern Water Tribe members.

 

Katara dressed in a red shirt and loose trousers, preferring freedom of movement over fashion. To the locals she was an ordinary peasant anyway, someone beneath their notice. Avoiding the creaky floorboards that would wake the inn's guests, she went down to the kitchen to Hama.

 

Hama reminded her greatly of her grandmother, with her thick, white hair and icy blue-gray eyes. A former Fire Nation prisoner, she had broken free of her captors and disappeared, forging a new identity as a humble innkeeper. Only Katara and their Earth Kingdom contacts knew that the old woman was a master waterbender.

 

“Good morning, Kimi,” she said, using Katara's Fire Nation name. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“I did, thank you, Hana,” the girl answered, taking care to use Hama's false name. The Water Tribe names they'd grown up with sounded foreign here, and were too dangerous to keep. “Do you need help with breakfast?”

 

“Yes, please,” Hama instructed, pointing to the prep table. “Grill the fish for me while I prepare the rice. Don't skimp on the spices, either; you know Master Zenjiro likes his hot!”

 

Katara made a face. The Fire Nation was far too used to burning their taste buds with super hot food! Luckily, Hama always made edible stuff for the two waterbenders, to enjoy down in the kitchen when the guests were fed and happy.

 

She cooked the fish, her mind drifting back to her dreams. For the past few nights she'd been dreaming of faraway places and strange beasts, nothing she'd ever seen while awake. She itched to go out and explore a bit; Hama never let her go far, afraid she'd be caught and her origins discovered somehow.

 

“That'll do, Kimi,” the innkeeper said, inspecting her work. “I'll serve them this morning. You go to the market and bring me all of this,” she added, handing her a small bag of money, an empty basket, and a long list of groceries. We'll work on your calligraphy later.”

 

Hama always referred to waterbending as calligraphy, just in case a nosy inn guest eavesdropped.

 

“Okay,” Katara agreed, eager to visit the town. There was nothing too interesting in it, but at least she'd get some fresh air and exercise instead of sweeping floors and washing dirty linens.

 

The inn was halfway between the docks and the village. The winding road that connected them all was lovely this time of year, with all the flowers in bloom, but it could get very dusty and all the turns made it a long walk. The woods were quicker, and more isolated.

 

Katara cut through the woods, listening to the chirping of birds and breathing in the clean air. Every once in a while, when she checked that no one was near, she would bend a little water, as Hama had taught her. She could take it from the grass, or the trees, or even the air, if the air was humid enough. It usually was.

 

With practiced ease, Katara bent a huge disc of ice from the moisture above her, and sent it flying straight ahead, where it struck an overgrown bush with an unexpected CRACK!

 

The ice had cut through several branches, revealing a small crater, almost like a tiny volcano. It had been completely covered in undergrowth and fallen trees, but now Katara could see the gleam of ice.

 

A large, perfectly shaped sphere of ice lay before her, in the middle of the small crater. She knew instinctively that only a waterbender could have made an ice ball so perfectly round, and peering inside, Katara could almost make out the shape of a person and some furry beast.

 

There was no one around to hear her gasp, which was fortunate. Katara was not quiet.

 

Quickly, she used her waterbending to melt the ice ball, very slowly. Using all her concentration, she separated the molecules until the sphere had transformed into a cloud of water vapor. Tossing it aside, she could finally see the occupant of the giant ball.

 

It was a strangely dressed bald boy, with glowing tattoos on his head, arms, and feet. His animal had arrows too. They both lay on the ground, unmoving.

 

Katara jumped down into the crater and reached into the bald boy with her healing, fighting instinctive disbelief to see if he could be saved. Slowly, carefully, she revived him and the boy gulped in a breath. His eyes opened, and the glow of his tattoos faded.

 

“Are you okay?” Katara asked, incredulous.

 

The boy blinked up at her for a few seconds, then grinned. “I'm just fine, thanks!”

 

He tried to sit up, and groaned as the world spun. “How long was I out?”

 

“I don't know,” the girl told him. “I found you inside a giant ball of ice. How did that happen?”

 

“I don't remember,” he said, frowning. He looked around the clearing, and brightened when he spotted his giant animal. “Appa! Wake up, buddy!”

 

Appa didn't want to wake up, but he was unharmed, to Katara's relief. She wasn't sure she'd know how to heal that thing.

 

“Who are you?” Katara asked the stranger.

 

He ran back to her, faster than she could blink. “I'm Aang,” he said, bowing in a strangely formal manner. “Master airbender from the Southern Air Temple. This is my flying bison Appa.”

 

Katara took a step back. “That's not possible.”

 

Aang blinked. “Which part?”

 

“The airbenders are extinct, everyone knows that. No one has seen them for a hundred years, since the war began.”

 

The boy's face showed nothing but disbelief. “What war?”

 

“ _The_ war!” cried Katara. “The war the Fire Nation started when Sozin's Comet came; the war they're about to win!”

 

Aang looked around again. “But this _is_ the Fire Nation, and you sound like you're not from there. You don't really look Fire Nation, either.”

 

“Shhhhh!” Katara said, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Of course I'm not, and if you say that a little louder, I'll be in prison for the rest of my life!”

 

Alarmed by her fear, Aang nodded as if in agreement that he wouldn't shout. “Where are you from, then?”

 

Smiling a bit, Katara bowed as he had. It was hard to dislike this kid, even if he was clueless. “I'm Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, a master waterbender,” she whispered. “My village was destroyed in the war, so my father smuggled me out. Around here, I'm just Kimi, the innkeeper's maid-of-all-work.”

 

“I don't understand,” Aang said, sounding lost. “I'm an Air Nomad. I've spent my whole life flying around the world, and I have friends everywhere. I've never seen any war!”

 

“Aang, what's the last date you remember?” Katara asked cautiously.

 

“August 7, 11257,” he answered quickly. His big gray eyes went bigger when she shook her head.

 

“I hate to tell you this, Aang, but today is February 3, 11357. You've been in that ice for nearly a hundred years.”

 

“No!” he cried, realizing what it meant. “It's not true, it can't be! That would mean everyone I know is—is—”

 

“Dead,” Katara agreed quietly. “I'm sorry Aang, but I wouldn't lie about this.”

 

“I have to see for myself,” he said, sounding distant and far older than his years. “I'm going to visit the Western Air Temple, and see what the lady airbenders are up to.”

 

“Good luck, then,” Katara said, feeling terribly sorry for him. “If you need a friend after, I hope you'll come back.”

 

Aang gave her a tight smile. “Thanks. I'll ask for Kimi of the inn.”

 

Katara watched as he prodded his companion into flying, then disappeared over the woods with a final wave. She pinched herself in the leg, hard. When she winced from the pain, she was convinced that Aang was real, and not a figment of her bored imagination.

 

With a final shake of the head, she continued her journey into town. Hama and the entire network would be shocked, and certainly excited, to hear that an airbender lived.

 

Suddenly, Katara groaned and smacked her forehead in frustration.

 

“I should have asked him about the Avatar!” she cried. “I'm so stupid!”

 

Berating herself for her folly, the waterbender checked her pocket for the small moneybag, and walked into the main village square. If the poor boy ever came back, she'd make sure to ask him all about the vanished Avatar.

 

 


	2. The Forbidden House

Aang returned a week after Katara had found him. His eyes were red from weeping, and he had not eaten or bathed in days. After taking one look at him, Hama had marched him up the servants' stairs to a guest room and prepared a bath, promising to scrub him herself if he did not clean up.

 

“That poor boy,” Hama sighed, coming back to the kitchen as Katara stirred the soup. “I can't imagine being the last of my race, though we certainly came close in the South.”

 

“What did Cheng say?” Katara asked, wondering what Hama's contacts made of the boy.

 

“Cheng says that the last known avatar was an airbending prodigy, about twelve years old when Sozin's Comet arrived. Any records with his name were lost or taken by the Fire Nation long ago, but it was a boy. That means he would have gone to the Northern or Southern Air Temples when he was old enough.”

 

“Aang said he came from the Southern Temple,” Katara remembered, “so he should know something. Even if he does, though, would the Avatar make a difference at this point?”

 

“With Sozin's Comet returning this year? Of course he would,” Hama hissed, lowering her voice as two guests entered the nearby dining room, chattering away. “Maybe he would open up to you, Kimi. Do what you can; remember that your father and brother could live or die based on this information.”

 

With a pang, Katara remembered her family on the front lines. She felt a strong wave of resentment for the Avatar, who had vanished when the world needed him most. It wasn't fair!

 

Hama drew her back into the present by throwing a bundle of red clothing at her, including a hat. Aang would need a drastic change in outfit to hide all his arrows and pass for an ordinary Fire Nation boy. Hoping she could coax him out, Katara went upstairs with the clothes, and knocked on Aang's door.

 

“Come in,” mumbled the subdued airbender.

 

She found him wrapped in a red robe, staring at a blank wall with eyes that were too old for a boy his size.

 

“I found them, Katara,” he said quietly. “I found their bones.”

 

Before she could react, he was crying, clutching at her arms and trembling. Katara had next to no experience caring for someone younger than she, but she did her best, rubbing his back in slow circles and waiting out the storm.

 

“I really am the last Airbender,” Aang whispered.

 

Katara, hating her callousness, could not stop the question. “Aang, do you think the Avatar might still be out there? He was an airbender, right?”

 

Aang froze. An oddly guilty look crossed his features, then he looked down again.

 

“What could one person do against this war?”

 

“A lot!” Katara insisted. “Just imagine if you and I found the Avatar. People that are close to giving up would take up arms again, and follow him to victory! The Avatar is someone that all nations respect. I'm sure even the Fire Nation would have to pay attention if he returned.”

 

Looking now at Aang, Katara did not see respect. She saw terror in a pair of huge gray eyes.

 

“Did you know him, Aang?”

 

“I am him,” he replied, so low that she could barely hear it. “I am the Avatar.”

 

“How do you know?” asked Katara eagerly. “Didn't the avatars find out when they were older?”

 

“I was born the day Avatar Roku died. When I was a baby, the monks did a test,” Aang explained sadly. “They put thousands of toys in front of me, and I picked four. Those four were the same four I've chosen in every past life since the beginning of the cycle.”

 

The monk wrapped himself a little tighter with his robe, and went on.

 

“I was born in the Eastern Air Temple, and I lived there until I was six. That's when we all get our air bisons, and start roaming. The boys go to the Southern Air Temple, and we start airbending training. I got my arrows earlier than any of my friends.” He sighed. “When I turned twelve, the monks took me aside and told me that I was the Avatar. Monk Gyatso didn't want to, but there were rumors of trouble.”

 

“The dragons,” Katara whispered.

 

Aang shook his head. “We didn't know what it was, but they were all worried. They were going to send me away to another temple, to complete my training without my friends to distract me. I ran away,” he finished, tortured. “I was caught in a storm on my way to visit my friend Kuzon, and my Avatar powers kicked in to protect me. That must be how I ended up frozen.”

 

A sinking feeling had taken root in Katara's belly. The Avatar, the man they'd all been waiting for, was a terrified twelve-year-old boy.

 

“So you never completed your training?”

 

Aang shook his head. “I'm not a full Avatar until I master water, earth, and fire. With the world at war, I don't know how that is possible.”

 

Katara's tried to inject as much hope as possible into her voice. “I did tell you about Hama, didn't I? She's my waterbending master; I'm sure she'd teach you, too.”

 

Aang perked up. “Really?”

 

The girl nodded. “I'm only fourteen, and I'm already a master. You'll be throwing snowballs and making water whips in no time!”

 

“That's great!” cried Aang. “I'll get dressed and we can ask her. But first, race you back to where you found me!”

 

 

 

 

 

Ten minutes later, the two were running through the woods, laughing as they raced aimlessly.

 

“Hey!” Katara cried, gasping for breath. “No fair, don't use your bending!”

 

“You're just upset because you can't beat me,” Aang teased, making a ball of air and floating away on it. “This is the best way to travel except for Appa and my glide—oof!”

 

Katara fought back a laugh. The little monk had smashed into a wall, at least twenty feet high.

 

“Whoa,” he said, looking up at it from where he'd fallen. “What is this place?”

 

They couldn't see much over the giant wall, except the tops of trees and what looked like a roof.

 

“I don't know,” Katara answered. “I've never seen anyone come this way.”

 

“Let's find a way in,” Aang suggested eagerly.

 

They raced along the wall, looking for a gate or opening. Whatever lay inside, the grounds were massive! They turned one corner, then another, and finally saw an overgrown path leading to an iron gate. It was a beautiful thing, with metal spikes adorned with ivy and flowers of the same material. Beyond the gate lay an enormous house.

 

“Wow,” said Katara, taking it all in. “I wonder who lived here.”

 

Aang tested the gate, grunting with effort and shaking his head when it didn't give. It was too heavy, even when they both pushed.

 

“I could fly over the wall on my glider,” he offered. “Maybe it opens from the inside?”

 

“Aang, don't,” Katara protested. “What if there's someone in there?”

 

“Look at it, Katara!” he argued. “It looks abandoned to me.”

 

He had a point. The grounds hadn't met a gardener's pruning shears in at least a decade. Still, there was something about the place that made Katara's skin prickle uncomfortably.

 

“I don't know, Aang,” she wavered.

 

“It'll be easy, watch!”

 

Before she could stop him, the airbender had tossed his glider into the air, and flown straight up, landing neatly on top of the wall. After giving her a cheerful wave, he jumped down the other side.

 

As Aang prodded at the gate from the inside, a trap door to his left swung up, revealing six uniformed Fire Nation soldiers.

 

“Aang!” shouted Katara, but it was too late. The airbender was surrounded.

 

“What are you doing here?” asked the soldier in charge, staring at Aang through his mask.

 

Katara thanked every spirit she knew for the clothes Hama had given the boy. Had he worn his monk robes and bald head, she was sure he'd be dead. With the red hat and high collar he wore now, he was just an ordinary boy.

 

“I was just exploring,” he said quickly. “I didn't know anyone was here.”

 

“Well, you're trespassing on private property, and highly restricted property at that,” the soldier answered. “Take him to the cell.”

 

“No!” shouted Katara, pushing uselessly against the gates. “Please, he's just a kid!”

 

The soldier ignored her.

 

“I'll be fine, Kimi,” Aang said, frightened but calm enough to use her Fire Nation name.

 

“Please,” Katara begged, knowing she could not let the Avatar be captured. “If you want a prisoner, take me instead. I'm the eldest, I should have known better.”

 

“Go away, girl,” another soldier said derisively, making a face at her peasant garb. “Unless you want to join him.”

 

“Now, Jee, let's not be hasty,” said another voice.

 

Katara turned, startled, to see an old man approaching from the big house. He dressed in elegant red and gold robes over a generous belly, and kept a neatly groomed beard of gray under the brightest golden eyes Katara had ever seen. What was left of his hair was in a tidy top knot.

 

“General Iroh, we can't have trespassers coming and going as they please,” Jee protested.

 

“This young lady has offered to take her friend's place; I find that an acceptable proposition. After all, we are not equipped to handle a village of children, and I'm sure the boy will learn his lesson and stay away.”

 

“No, I'll do it!” Aang protested, aghast. “I'll stay!”

 

“You, young man,” said Iroh calmly, “should accept the gift you've been given. Take your freedom, and live an extraordinary life. Open the gates!”

 

The soldiers obeyed, and Katara ran to embrace Aang before he could say anything else.

 

“Go back to Hama,” she whispered. “Please, Aang. I couldn't live with myself if you were captured or killed like the other airbenders. Master the elements, and end this war. I'll be just fine.”

 

She had no way to know that General Iroh had heard every word. His eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing.

 

“Please, don't argue,” Katara begged her new friend. “Go! Too many lives depend on you to worry about silly old me,” she finished, smiling despite her tears.

 

With one final, desperate look at the general and his soldiers, Aang fled. Katara mustered what was left of her dignity and faced her captors with dry eyes and a head held high. With a quick signal from General Iroh, the soldiers closed the gate behind her.

 

“Well,” said the old man. “You are a brave young woman, my dear. Welcome to Ember House. I apologize for the circumstances that brought you here.”

 

“Why do you need a prisoner, anyway?” Katara asked, hoping the old man was open to persuasion.

 

The general looked at her with those unnatural golden eyes, and suddenly she remembered the stories her mother had told her.

 

“Dragon,” she whispered, taking a step back in alarm. “You're a dragon!”

 

“Oh yes,” General Iroh replied, pleased by her quick wits. “And you're a waterbender.”

 

“What!” Katara cried in alarm. She had not used her bending at all since running off with Aang!

 

“I'm sure you took every precaution, my dear,” Iroh consoled her, leading her away from the soldiers. “But you see, we dragons have excellent hearing and smell. You smell of the polar Water Tribes. Southern, I think. What is your name?”

 

“Katara,” replied the waterbender. It was useless to hide her true name from someone who could smell the truth, so she didn't bother. “But...my friend...”

 

“I had never smelled his kind before,” Iroh confirmed. “It would have been difficult, since there are no others. But you did the right thing, Miss Katara. The Avatar must be free to restore balance to the world.”

 

“How can you say that?” she cried. “You're a dragon, a Fire Nation royal!”

 

The old man smiled wryly. “You will find, Miss Katara, that not all dragons think alike. And if you follow me inside, you will see why I don't want my brother to win this war.”

 

He offered her his arm, and together, they walked into the house.

 


	3. Dragon Fire

Even in its current state, Katara could tell that Ember House had once been the vacation home of royalty. As Iroh led her on a brief tour, pointing out the rooms that were still usable, she admired the beautiful tapestries and paintings. It was quite lovely...for a prison, that is.

 

Just as Katara had begun to enjoy her surroundings, she remembered what she was doing here. When she opened her mouth to promise secrecy and beg for her freedom, Iroh stopped her train of thought by rapping quickly on a door.

 

“What is it?” asked the person within. The voice was male, young, and peevish.

 

“Prince Zuko,” the old man replied, “You have a guest.”

 

After a few seconds, Katara heard someone stomping over to the door from the other side, and as he yanked it open, she saw the prince.

 

He was young, no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Like the human-form dragons in her mom's old scrolls, he was all angles, with pale skin, fine dark hair, and golden eyes even brighter than his uncle's. That, however, was where the similarities ended.

 

Prince Zuko had long, curving black claws where an ordinary boy would have fingernails; his bare forearms were covered in brilliant scales, and his teeth were longer and more pointed than a human's. Worst of all, he had an enormous scar marring the left side of his face, a scar that looked immensely painful.

 

It had taken her a second or two to see all this, but it was enough for the prince to get a whiff of his captive.

 

“Witch!” he snarled, clenching his clawed fists so hard that Katara saw blood. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I'm not a witch!” Katara protested, feeling insulted. “And I'm only here because your soldiers captured my friend!”

 

He sniffed. “You smell like a witch, so don't lie to me. Uncle, why is she here?”

 

The waterbender saw General Iroh fighting a sigh. “As Miss Katara told you, nephew, your men caught a boy trespassing on our grounds, and Katara offered herself up in his place. She is,” he added, “a waterbender.”

 

“Witch,” Zuko insisted viciously, glaring at her with nothing but contempt. “Come to look at the monster, have you?”

 

“I didn't know this place existed until today!” Katara shouted, frustrated that nothing got through this boy's skull. “You think I want to be in this place, with the people who had my entire tribe killed?”

 

She gave him a glare that could have melted the polar ice caps. “And by the way,” she added, “I am a waterbender. Not a witch, a _waterbender_. Don't you dragons go to school?”

 

The younger dragon showed no remorse for his words. “It was a waterbender that made me like this,” he said coldly, pointing to his scales and fangs with a clawed finger. “So don't presume to educate me, witch.”

 

“Zuko!” chided the old man. “That is not how a prince behaves toward young ladies.”

 

The younger dragon gave Katara the most insolent bow she had ever seen in her life. It was more an insult than a respectful gesture. Without a word, he slammed his door shut.

 

“Please, forgive him, Miss Katara,” Iroh said quietly. “He has been shut up in this house for too long, with nothing but bad memories to plague his mind.”

 

But Katara had more things to worry about than Zuko's manners. “What did he mean, a waterbender did that to him?”

 

Iroh led her to a beautiful sitting room in silence, where she had an unimpeded view of the sunset. As he poured her some tea, he finally answered her question.

 

“Almost three years ago, Prince Zuko and I were in this very house. He was in physical and emotional pain, and in no mood to talk to anyone, let alone make friends. His entire world had collapsed in days, and I didn't know how to help him.”

 

Katara had to look away from the raw grief in the general's eyes.

 

“A woman came to the gates one night, asking for shelter. There was a lightning storm on the way, and she had been caught unawares. We tried to turn her away for Zuko's sake, but she would not go.”

 

He paused to take a sip of tea.

 

“Finally, Zuko himself came to the doors. Half of his head was in bandages, and he was so full of pain medication that he could barely stand, but he told the woman to leave, and he was as far from polite as one can possibly be. She grew angry, and cursed him.”

 

“Cursed him?” said Katara, confused. “But—he's a dragon, isn't he supposed to—”

 

She stopped when Iroh shook his head gently.

 

“I don't know how she did it; all I know is that she was a waterbender, from her smell. But no dragon should suffer what Zuko is suffering. We can change from our human forms to our true forms at will; he can no longer do it. He is locked in a half-transformation, and his inner fire is trapped within with no hope of release. He cannot use his wings, and he cannot bend fire. No dragon can survive it for long.”

 

Katara shuddered. She could not imagine losing her bending, and the curse sounded awful (and she must admit, unjust for so petty an offense!). The general looked devastated. Clearly, he cared a great deal for his nephew.

 

“Can the curse be broken?” she asked, sympathetic for the old man's sake.

 

Iroh nodded, taking another sip of tea before continuing. “Before she left, the woman created a lily out of thin air,” he explained. “It was made of ice, and enchanted ice at that; it has not melted in three years. She said that when the prince's heart thaws enough to allow another person in, the flower will melt and the curse will be broken.”

 

Katara thought about that for a moment. “General, that doesn't make any sense. We waterbenders can create flowers out of ice, of course, but I've never heard of a waterbender blocking another's powers like that.”

 

“Neither have I,” he answered sadly. “I have considered that perhaps the woman had help from the spirit world,” he confessed, “but that doesn't help Zuko.”

 

“So...are you expecting me to be the person that thaws his heart?” Katara asked, doubtful. “Because you saw his reaction to me, just now. And I don't exactly like him, either.”

 

“I saw it,” Iroh replied. “But please, give him a chance to improve your opinion. I can't think of anyone in this world who needs a friend more, despite my bias.”

 

Katara was unconvinced, but Iroh was too likeable to scorn outright—for a dragon.

 

“Come,” he said suddenly. “You must dress for dinner, and you haven't brought anything with you, have you?”

 

Mutely, the waterbender shook her head.

 

“No matter!” Iroh said cheerfully, herding her down another hallway to a handsome bedroom with an enormous wardrobe. “Lady Ursa's dresses may suit you, though they'll be a bit long. If you are handy with a needle, we will remedy that in time. Now, Cook serves dinner at seven, and he will ring a gong when it is time. Do you remember how to reach the dining room we passed when we first came in?”

 

Katara nodded.

 

“Then I will leave you. There is a bathroom just through those doors,” he pointed, “if you would like a bath before we dine.”

 

He left, closing the door softly behind him. Katara went to the bathroom at once, eager to wash off the dirt, leaves, and smell of the woods from her skin and hair. As a waterbender, she felt most at home when surrounded by her element, whether it was the ice of her homeland, or a full bathtub here.

 

An hour later, Katara stepped out of Lady Ursa's room in search of the dining room. She had washed, dried, brushed, and perfumed to her satisfaction, and she wore an exquisite silk gown that was a few inches too long, but that was alright. She just had to remember to take small steps and hold up her skirts, to avoid tripping.

 

“Ah, Miss Katara!” said Iroh when he spotted her. Next to him, Zuko scowled. “Come, sit here.”

 

The dining room was far more elegant than the one Katara scrubbed at Hama's inn. The floor cushions were abundant and comfortable, and the table was gleaming and loaded with delicious-looking things.

 

“Eat, both of you,” ordered the general cheerfully.

 

Katara helped herself to some sticky rice balls, roast duck in ginger sauce, and steamed vegetables. It was all delicious, though the food seemed to stick to her throat whenever the prince glared at her, which was often.

 

“What is your problem?” she exploded finally. “ _I_ didn't do anything to you!”

 

“You must be blind if you can't see what's wrong,” he replied, baring his fangs in disgust.

 

“I see you have an attitude problem,” Katara replied, determined to finish her duck. “How did a waterbender burn you, anyway? I thought fire couldn't harm dragons.”

 

Too late, she noticed Iroh shaking his head in alarm.

 

“Shows how much you know,” Zuko said, quieter than she'd ever heard him speak. “I'm going to bed, Uncle.”

 

He stormed out, but not before Katara saw something protruding from his back. It looked like the beginnings of wings, but trapped in his body due to the curse. She shivered.

 

“You're partially right, Miss Katara,” General Iroh said with a sigh. “Ordinary fire cannot harm a dragon.”

 

“So what can?” she asked curiously. She tried to tell herself that it was a tactical advantage she might pass on someday, but really, she was dying to know what could cause such a horrific burn to a mythical creature.

 

“Only the fire of another dragon,” the old man finished sadly.

 

“But all of the other dragons are your family, aren't they? _Oh_.”

 

Katara felt too sick to finish her meal. It was unbelievable that a family member could have done that to the irritable prince, who had been just a boy at the time.

 

“Why?” she asked in a small voice.

 

“He spoke out in his father's war council. The older generals were about to send new recruits to die on the front lines, as bait for the Earth Kingdom, while our veterans went around their flanks. He jumped up and shouted that we could not betray our faithful soldiers like that. So Fire Lord Ozai burned his face and banished him here, for what he called an act of shameful disrespect.”

 

The waterbender shuddered. “We've all heard stories of the cruelty of the Fire Nation, but that's just awful,” she said, subdued. “So he was recovering from _that_ when the other waterbender came?”

 

“Yes,” Iroh told her. “Zuko has suffered much in his life. I know he's not the friendliest of dragons, but once he was the sweetest boy in the world. I hope you may see that side of him, someday.”

 

Katara doubted it, but she didn't want to be rude to her new friend. She bid Iroh goodnight, and returned to her room. She knew she would spend most of the night going over the events of the day, and everything Iroh had told her.

 

 


	4. Enchanted Ice

Over the next few weeks, Katara's life fell into a new routine. She would have breakfast with Iroh and Zuko, and sit in on the prince's lessons of Fire Nation history, geography, and law. She wasn't particularly interested in those things, but Iroh had a way of making the most boring historical character come alive in his lessons, and she had little else to do.

 

After lunch, she would go into the practice room, where barrels of water were brought up for her use. She would practice all her bending forms, wishing she could have said goodbye to Hama, and hoping Aang had returned to her for instruction. After wearing herself out, she would soak in her bathtub for a while, heal any injuries, and then go to dinner with the two dragons. The soldiers kept to their guardhouse and the grounds, so she hardly saw them. Still, she remained a prisoner, and a lonely one at that.

 

 

 

Three weeks into her captivity, Prince Zuko asked her to pass the teapot. It was the first time he'd talked to her since her arrival.

 

Mutely, Katara passed him the teapot, and went on with her meal. Neither noticed that the frown lines around Iroh's eyes lightened just a bit.

 

 

 

Five weeks into her stay, she answered one of Iroh's questions in class with a witty remark. To her surprise, Zuko's shoulders shook with silent laughter. Before she could process that, he was nearly crying from laughing so hard.

 

Iroh's smile was a study in pure joy.

 

 

 

Ten weeks in, Katara took advantage of the downtime after dinner to explore. She'd only seen a handful of rooms, all in the same wing. Armed with a candle and her natural curiosity, she headed up the stairs and to the right.

 

It was eerily silent here. It was obvious that neither the dragons nor their men ever came here, and she could hardly wonder why. It was dusty, and most of the furniture had been burnt to a crisp. Even the tapestries were in charred tatters.

 

Just as she'd mentally given up on the exploration, a gleam of something caught her eye. Turning, Katara saw a small table under a window. The moonlight sparkled on a beautiful lily of pure ice, which stood proudly under a glass cover on the table.

 

Katara went closer, spellbound. This was the lily Iroh had told her about, the one that was somehow tied to the Prince's curse!

 

Without thinking, she took off the glass cover and laid it aside, reaching for the flower with careful hands. It certainly _felt_ like ice, and the flawless sculpting of it proved that a waterbender had created it. A chisel or other tool would have left marks, and there were none.

 

Katara reached within herself, as she usually did when waterbending. She willed the lily to melt. Opening her eyes, she saw that nothing had changed at all.

 

“Come on!” she growled, starting to sweat with the effort. “ _Melt_ , ice!”

 

“It won't work,” said the raspy voice of the younger dragon. Katara jumped, backing away from the flower. “Not even Uncle could melt it with his fire, and believe me, he tried.”

 

Zuko stepped into the light, bare-chested and barefooted. For once, he was looking at her without an ounce of hostility or distrust. He looked almost friendly.

 

“There has to be a way!” Katara protested. “I'm a waterbender, I should be able to manipulate ice, unless it's not ice at all.”

 

“And I'm a dragon. I should be able to breathe fire and fly at will,” he said, bitterness creeping into his tone. “But here we are. I'm going to die in this dusty old house, all because some old woman thought I was rude. Meanwhile, my crazy sister will become Fire Lord and destroy the whole world.”

 

“Don't say that!” the girl pleaded. “You're not going to die!”

 

“Look at me,” Zuko said simply. “Really look, not just the quick stare you do at dinner, when you think I can't see.”

 

Katara did look. To her horror, she saw that he was much thinner and paler than he'd been when she'd arrived. His golden eyes were losing their brilliance, and even his scales looked dull.

 

“Come here!” she ordered, pulling him closer to the window so she could see better. “Sit.”

 

There were no seats or cushions, so he sat cross-legged on the floor. “Why am I sitting?”

 

Katara regulated her breathing, and pulled a few bucketfuls of water from the well outside. Once she had a giant ball of water in the room, she divided it into smaller balls and froze them.

 

“I'm going to try to heal you.”

 

She walked around the silent prince, and gasped at the sight of his back. While her people sometimes inked tribal designs into their skin, Zuko's back was a riot of color. He had two bat-like wings that reached from the small of his back to his shoulder blades, with a bright scarlet center that faded to gold at the edges. The skin was raised and bumpy, and she knew that this was no tattoo, but his dragon wings, trapped under the curse.

 

“Yeah, they hurt,” he asked, mistaking her gasp of surprise for sympathy. “We're supposed to stretch our wings at least once a day, but I haven't done it in over three years.”

 

“Try to relax,” Katara said finally.

 

Zuko felt very tense under her fingers, but she went ahead. Closing her eyes, she activated the healing water, and reached into the dragon.

 

It was nothing like she'd ever felt before. Hama had made her practice her healing on the two of them, sometimes inflicting small wounds on herself so Katara could heal them. The dragon, however, did not feel anything like Hama.

 

His blood seemed to run with pure fire, rather than chi. He was burning up, as Iroh had told her once, with no outlet. There was a terrible blockage around his heart, like all his energies were twisted and snarled there. There was another knot on his back, where his wings lay trapped.

 

She took a deep breath, pushed the cool healing water into the affected areas, and felt Zuko shiver. Katara spread the water throughout his body, reaching for more when her first and second balls were gone. When the dragon could hold no more, she let go.

 

Slowly, Zuko opened his eyes. He seemed to take stock of himself, then stood up in a fluid motion. The smile he gave Katara was dazzling.

 

“Better?” she asked, grinning.

 

His response was to pull her up and hug her fiercely, keeping his hands away to avoid scratching her with his claws.

 

“For the first time in years, I don't feel like I'm about to explode,” he said. “You have no idea what you've just done.”

 

Delighted, Katara hugged him back just as fiercely. When she moved a hand across his back, he shuddered.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

To her surprise, the dragon was blushing bright red.

 

“Zuko? Did I hurt you?”

 

“No,” he admitted, still red. “It's my wings—they're really sensitive,” he said with obvious embarrassment.

 

Katara almost laughed, but decided to take pity on him. “I see. Thanks for telling me,” she said, very seriously. “I won't touch them again.”

 

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. He really was devastatingly handsome when he smiled, even with the fangs. With the moonlight illuminating his good side, it was almost easy to imagine him as the man he could have been, with a kinder father and no curse.

 

“You're still a mess, you know,” Katara said suddenly. “We'll have to do this again soon. Wouldn't want you to explode.”

 

Prince Zuko bowed. “I defer to your judgment, Healer Katara,” he said, too happy with his current state to protest.

 

“Good night, Prince Pouty,” the waterbender said, using a nickname he'd earned from a bounty hunter years earlier. General Iroh still roared with laughter when retelling that story.

 

For a moment, Zuko stood next to Katara, looking down at her in silence. Then he smirked.

 

“Good night, Wicked Witch.”

 

 

 

Long after both of them had gone to bed, one of the ice lily's six perfect petals fell off, shattering against the tabletop. Unobserved beneath the moonlight, the broken petal slowly melted, and the resulting puddle evaporated into the night.

 

 

 

Three weeks later, the evening healing sessions had become a habit. No one knew of it but them, though Iroh was suspicious of his nephew's sudden good mood. He had not failed to notice that Zuko looked healthier, and his scent was slightly off. Still, the old general saw the teenagers' attitudes change, and was happy for it.

 

Meanwhile, Zuko and Katara were opening up to each other as never before. Zuko's healing sometimes brought up painful memories, and he had found himself revealing thoughts he'd never told anyone, not even his uncle. Under the moonlight and Katara's sympathetic gaze, he told her of his mother's disappearance, his sister's malicious tricks, and his shattered hopes that Fire Lord Ozai would one day summon him and restore his birthright.

 

In return, Katara told him of the raid on her village, and the terrifying weeks of hiding in Earth Kingdom territory, sneaking aboard merchant caravans and bribing officials to let them pass. She told him about her mother's sacrifice, Sokka's terrible jokes, and her Gran-Gran's seaweed cookies.

 

On this night, the waterbender told Zuko about Aang.

 

“It terrified me,” she said, “that the one person we were all counting on didn't even know about the war. He's just a kid, Zuko. I don't know if he can do anything to help.”

 

“But you still traded places with him,” he said.

 

“Yeah. In the end, I'm just one waterbender. He's the Avatar. I had to let him try.”

 

“One way or another,” Zuko said quietly, “the war will be over soon. Sozin's Comet will be back in a few months, and then the firebenders will be unstoppable.”

 

“Don't say that!” Katara cried. “We can't give up!”

 

“I'm being realistic. I thought you were, too.”

 

The girl sighed. “I don't know what to think anymore. I feel so useless.”

 

“Believe it or not,” the dragon answered, “I know exactly how you feel. But at least you're doing _something_ here. You're practicing your healing skills.”

 

“That's true,” Katara admitted, smiling up at him. Impulsively, she reached around him and squeezed, giving him a fierce hug. His gasp of surprise turned into something else. Katara watched curiously as his golden eyes darkened to black.

 

“What did I do?” she cried, alarmed. “Did I hurt you—oh!”

 

Blushing bright red, she remembered Zuko's sensitive wings. She'd been so careless, it was no surprise he'd gotten so...excited.

 

“I forgot,” she said, embarrassed. “And I promised I wouldn't touch them, too,” Katara lamented, wringing her hands.

 

“I never asked you to,” he said, with a grin that looked almost predatory. His eyes were still black.

 

Okay then.

 

Well, that was different.

 

“Turn around,” Katara said breathlessly.

 

He did so, then sat like he usually did for his healings. Instead of pulling up water, Katara ran her fingertips along the ridges of his trapped wings, smiling when Zuko shuddered against her hands.

 

“Does it feel good?” she asked teasingly.

 

He didn't answer, and he didn't need to. His trousers looked suspiciously tight from her perch behind him.

 

Slowly, she traced the outline of his left wing. Zuko let out what was decidedly a moan.

 

Katara had never had a lover; she'd been too young among her own people, and in the Fire Nation she was far too isolated. That had not stopped her from reading naughty scrolls, or from people-watching in town after school. Feeling bold, she nipped at Zuko's neck, and giggled when he groaned.

 

“Katara, you don't know what you're doing,” he protested finally. He sounded uncomfortable.

 

“You don't like it, then?” she asked, all too aware of her own inexperience.

 

“It's not that,” Zuko answered gently, turning to face her. “Look at me. I can't even touch you without hurting you,” he explained, holding out his clawed hands palms-up.

 

“You want to touch me?” Katara asked, recovering her courage.

 

“More than anything,” he confessed. Despite his arousal, his eyes were turning back to gold. He looked sad.

 

Katara bit her lip. His eyes were drawn to it immediately.

 

“Then follow me.”

 

She dragged him to her bedroom, a bit surprised by her own boldness. He did not protest, though he grunted with surprise when she pushed him onto her bed. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he didn't have long to worry. Katara just climbed into bed next to him, then pulled his arm over her side. The dragon's heat was a furnace at her back. She'd never felt so sheltered since leaving home.

 

Zuko lay awake for far too long, holding his only friend in his arms. He didn't dare move, afraid he would scratch her with his claws, so he stayed put, feeling her pleasantly cool human skin against his own. Maybe they would die when the Comet came, but for now, he was happier than he'd been in years.

 

Back in their healing room, another petal fell off the lily.

 


	5. Studies and Shaking

Four months after her capture, Zuko took Katara to the library. She'd been there before, of course, but she'd gone in search of novels, histories, anything that could amuse her when Zuko was sulking and Iroh was busy. She had not visited recently, now that Zuko had revealed his stash of board games and card games. She had to admit that he was gorgeous, and funny when he wasn't in one of his moods.

 

“What's the big surprise?” she asked, watching his eager face as he looked for the right scrolls.

 

“This,” he replied, passing her a tablet listing the materials on that shelf.

 

“Healing scrolls!” Katara cried, surprised. “Why do you have them? None of you dragons can heal, can you?”

 

“No,” the prince answered. “But maybe they'll have something you don't know. You can't have learned everything there is to know about healing with water yet, right?”

 

“Humph!” Katara protested, pretending to be offended. “It's like you don't trust me or something. See if I heal you again, Prince Pouty!”

 

“Katara,” he chuckled, pulling her close and looking at the scroll over her shoulder. “You know that's not what I meant.”

 

“I know,” she sighed, leaning back into his chest. Zuko had become surprisingly tactile lately. Her dearest wish was to kiss him and be kissed, but he wouldn't risk it, afraid of hurting her with his fangs. So he held her whenever she asked, and sometimes of his own volition, but no more.

 

He left her alone to read, claiming it was time for sword practice. He'd confessed to her that he'd been a mediocre firebender, for a dragon, and he'd taken up swords as a way to prove to his father that he was a worthy heir. Ozai had disagreed, sneering at his swords with typical firebender snobbery. Iroh, however, had kept Zuko practicing. Now that he couldn't bend fire, swords were his only defense, and he practiced daily, usually before she woke up.

 

 

 

General Iroh found Katara there days later, so immersed in her scrolls that she jumped when he came in.

 

“Ah, education,” said the old man. “A noble pursuit at all times, but especially in our youth. How goes the search, Miss Katara?”

 

“I'm learning a lot about chi paths,” she answered. “But for now, I don't have a solution. I really, really want to help Zuko break this curse, Iroh.”

 

“I know you do,” Iroh told her gently. “You've done more for my nephew than I could have dreamed, and I am eternally grateful. I wish you the best of luck.”

 

The month of June flew by as all the others. Zuko and Katara studied and played together, sometimes sparring (swords versus water and ice). At night, Katara would heal Zuko, and they'd stay up talking or fall asleep together. She kept researching, taking diligent notes of everything she'd learned about healing and chi.

 

One day, after their history lesson with Iroh, Katara motioned for Zuko to leave so she could talk to his uncle in private. He did, frowning in confusion.

 

“What can I do for you, Miss Katara?” asked the general placidly.

 

“I think I've gone about this the wrong way,” Katara explained. “All my studies and practice were intended for human patients, but there's nothing about healing dragons. I was wondering if you would allow me to examine you in dragon and human form, so I can see what Zuko _should_ be able to do.”

 

Iroh was surprised, but pleased.

 

“What an excellent idea!”

 

She guided her new patient to his bed, then examined his human form at length, noting the differences between him and Zuko. His blood, chi, and inner fire flowed without impediment, reaching every part of his body with little effort. It was beautiful to see.

 

“Could you transform now, please?”

 

Iroh climbed out of bed with surprising agility, and transformed before her astonished eyes. In dragon form he was too large for the room, but he folded his scarlet wings quickly to give Katara space. His body and wings were the same color, with black claws and the same golden eyes he had as a human. Fangs much longer than Zuko's sprouted from his mouth.

 

For a moment, Katara was frozen with fear. It was one thing to know that someone was a fearsome mythical beast, and quite another to see it! Then the dragon went back to bed, and she shook her head at her own silliness.

 

Under her healing water, Iroh the dragon was very similar to Iroh the man, despite the change in outward appearance. She followed his chi with care, noting where it pooled and how fast it moved. She wrote down her observations, then thanked Iroh for his help.

 

“It was my pleasure, Miss Katara. Anything I can do to help Zuko will be done.”

 

Later that night, she gave Zuko another healing session, and shared her progress. He was cautiously optimistic, but unwilling to get his hopes up too far.

 

“What would you do if we break your curse?” Katara asked later, lying next to him in his huge bed.

 

Zuko thought about it. “If my father and sister haven't destroyed what's left of the world, you mean?”

 

“Obviously,” Katara replied, used to his pessimism and dry humor by now.

 

“Well, I'm still banished,” he said, “so going home isn't an option. I wouldn't want to go, anyway. And _you_ can't go home because it's not there anymore, so we'd have to find somewhere to live.”

 

“Would you join the fight against the Fire Nation?” Katara asked seriously. “I couldn't live with myself if I just hid away while it happened. I feel useless enough already.”

 

“The Earth Kingdom would kill me or lock me up if I even approached,” Zuko protested.

 

“You don't know that,” the waterbender insisted. “They'd trust a pair of waterbenders if we vouched for you.”

 

Zuko laughed. “Then I'll rely on you to keep me out of prison.”

 

Katara rolled over, so she lay half on top of him. “I'll be your protector,” she offered, then kissed his scarred cheek lightly.

 

They fell asleep in the prince's massive bedchamber, not knowing that another piece had fallen off the enchanted lily and evaporated.

 

 

 

On the fifteenth of July, Katara opened a new book to read, and froze. The title was _The Ancient and Despicable Art of Chi-Blocking_. The ornate illustrations showed people hunched in agony, with chi paths twisted and sometimes broken. Immediately she thought of Zuko.

 

 _This is it_ , she realized. _It's not waterbending that cursed him, it's chi-blocking! Now I just have to figure out how to undo it!_

 

She skipped lunch that day, reading as carefully as she knew how. Unlike her bending and healing scrolls, the chi-blocking book was thick and sparsely illustrated, with words she didn't know. She had to check the dictionary often, and grew increasingly frustrated with the author.

 

It took Katara five days to read the book from start to finish. Zuko and Iroh had taken turns dragging her to eat and to bed, worried that she'd collapse from exhaustion. After all of that, she had a pile of notes, and a head full of ideas that she couldn't wait to try. She was sure she could free her friend from his curse.

 

Zuko, seeing her wild hair, dark undereye circles, and unsteady gait, had forced her to sleep for ten hours before attempting to heal him. She cornered him after her nap, not knowing or caring what time it was.

 

“Alright, alright,” he said, grinning. “If you insist.”

 

He lay facedown on his bed. Katara pulled up the well water, and had just settled into her healing trance when the earth shook violently under them, pulling her back into the present.

 

“There are earthquakes here?” Katara cried, startled. “I've never felt one before!”

 

Zuko jumped out of bed. “That wasn't an earthquake. Get your water skins; we have visitors.”

 

Quickly, they ran towards the front of the house, dodging falling things as the ground shook again.

 

“That's at least one earthbender,” Zuko explained breathlessly, not slowing down. Katara had not even noticed when he grabbed his swords, but he had them in hand now, unsheathed and ready.

 

In the garden, they saw that one of the high walls had been smashed to bits. Zuko's handful of soldiers, slow after years of isolation, were losing badly to a raggedy band of misfits. To his shock, two were familiar.

 

“Sorry, Prince Zuko,” said his old weapons master, Piandao. “You have a captive and we've come to free her. Release her at once and we'll leave you in peace.”

 

Zuko barely heard him, overwhelmed with the scent of the woman who had cursed him.

 

“You!” he cried, filled with loathing. The old waterbender didn't speak; she shot a dozen ice spikes, at least two feet long, in his direction.

 

“You know Hama?” cried Katara, raising a wall of ice to protect him.

 

“She's the one who did this to me!” he cried. “Are you telling me that's your waterbending teacher?”

 

“Of course she is! Wait!” Katara shouted, trying to get her rescuers' attentions. “Please, stop! They're friends!”

 

“Katara, they locked you up!” protested a tattooed boy in yellow robes. “They're not friends!”

 

It was an absolute mess. Iroh had transformed already, and was busy deflecting any attacks aimed at his nephew. Katara noticed that he was not attacking, but the invaders did not. They were afraid of the furious dragon, and all too eager to hurt him.

 

“Katara, come with us,” ordered a tall man in blue, and the girl nearly fainted as she saw her father. He had new scars and his hair was much grayer, but it was Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. He stood back to back with her brother, Sokka, as they fought the soldiers.

 

“Dad!” she cried, overjoyed and completely torn. “Please, stop attacking us! Can't we talk for a minute?”

 

The earthbender moved in a way Katara had never seen before. She seemed to listen to the others before making a move, but she didn't hold back in her attacks. Katara used one of Hama's tricks to turn the earth beneath the girl and an old firebender into mud, then sank them up to their necks. She knew the girl would break out eventually, but the firebender should be stuck for a while.

 

She'd forgotten that Hama was on the attackers' side. She lifted the firebender out, and he sent a rapid fireball her way. Katara, caught between trying to make her family see reason, and dodging the earthbender's rocks, had no time to escape.

 

To her horror, Zuko jumped between her and the flame, his blades useless against the attack. He took the hit on his chest, and collapsed at her feet.

 

 

 


	6. The Healer and the Dragon

“Zuko!” cried Katara, her vision blurring. Forgetting the battle, she dropped to her knees beside him. Iroh, still in dragon form, created a curtain of fire to separate the two teenagers from the others. Not even the human firebender could withstand the heat, and the invaders moved back.

 

Katara bent water out of the well, desperate to save her friend. He was burning up, more than usual, and he had a large, terrible burn on his chest. The healer struggled to let go of her panic, and finally slipped into her healer's trance.

 

Slowly, she commanded the water to heal Zuko's burn, pleased as the skin regained its normal color and the pain receded. Going further, Katara remembered the information she had studied about chi, and found the blockages that were killing the dragon. With small, precise movements, Katara corrected his chi paths, reconnecting them when severed and clearing them when blocked. She recognized the results; he was becoming like Iroh in his human form.

 

Deaf and blind to the world around her, Katara spent half an hour in this manner. She didn't notice that the attackers had stopped, surprised and a bit awed by what they saw. Even once Iroh had dropped his fiery barrier, they no longer shot at the dragons.

 

Finally, the bluish glow receded and the waterbender opened her eyes. Hama looked both annoyed and proud, but Katara did not see it. She was calling for Zuko to wake up.

 

“Come on,” she urged him quietly. “I said I'd be your protector, and I meant it! Rise and shine, Zuko!”

 

But Zuko did not move.

 

Katara buried her face in her hands, crying. After all her studies, and all her efforts, she had failed.

 

“Please,” she begged through her tears. “Zuko, I love you.”

 

She took his wrist, eager to find a pulse, but her hands shook too badly. Iroh approached in human form, heartbroken. He said nothing, but tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

“He can't go,” Katara sobbed. Remembering the source of Zuko's curse, she whirled around to face her old teacher. “Fix this!” she cried. “You did this to him, now fix it!”

 

Hama approached slowly, taking a look at the motionless dragon. There was a small, twisted smile on her face. “That would be unnecessary, Katara. Look at him.”

 

“He's not dead,” the younger waterbender said rebelliously.

 

Almost as soon as she'd said it, Zuko's whole body flared into golden light. He rose off the ground, and the light grew so bright that they all shielded their eyes. When it died down, in the prince's place stood a dragon.

 

The dragon was a brilliant scarlet, with wings that faded to gold. He moved stiffly, as if he hadn't been able to for some time. Intelligent golden eyes surveyed the scene, until they rested on Katara, kneeling in the dirt with tearstained cheeks.

 

Immediately, the dragon approached her, ignoring the “Stay back!” and “Don't you dare!” coming from her father and brother. He knelt, towering over her, and transformed back into human form, alive and well.

 

“Zuko” Katara cried, hugging him so forcefully that he fell on his back, pulling her with him. Laughing from sheer joy, they stayed that way, embracing under the alarmed stares of Katara's rescuers.

 

“You should fly,” Katara suggested, admiring his fang-free face. He really was handsome. “Stretch your wings.”

 

“I will if you come with me,” he answered, looking up at the sky. When she assented, they stood up and he transformed, sitting on the ground so she could climb on his back.

 

“Katara, don't!” cried her father, but she didn't listen. Zuko took off, with the waterbender clinging to his neck, and they flew out of his prison. Katara looked down in awe, admiring the woods below them, and the shore and village in the distance.

 

“This is amazing!” she shouted, wishing he could talk in dragon form.

 

Zuko stretched his wings, taking her for a spin over the beach, and then up to the top of Obsidian Hill, an extinct volcano south of Ember House. There he transformed again.

 

“You did it,” he said softly, taking Katara's face in his hands (now free of claws). “You really did it!”

 

“I had to,” Katara answered. “You saved my life, and I love you.”

 

Zuko kissed her, pouring in every emotion he'd felt over the past few months, but could not share as long as he was cursed. Katara pulled him closer, running her hands through his hair, and kissed back just as fervently. They stayed in each other's arms for a long time, with nothing but the summer sun to bother them.

 

“I've wanted you to do that for a long time,” Katara confessed, breathless.

 

“I've _wanted_ to do that for a long time,” Zuko answered, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

 

“Oh really? Since when?”

 

“Do you remember that time you touched my wings by accident?” he answered in a low voice.

 

Katara remembered it well, and blushed.

 

“Are they as sensitive now that you're in human form?” she asked curiously.

 

Zuko turned around. Unlike his half-form, as a full human, the wings lay completely flat against his back. They were still a riot of color, but there was no wing-like texture to them. Katara ran her fingers around the outline of one, and Zuko shuddered.

 

“That answers that,” Katara laughed, leaving butterfly kisses down his spine.

 

“Katara, as much as I'd love to stay here, we should go back,” the dragon sighed. “Your dad will want to kill me as it is, and I have a few things to say to that old woman.”

 

“Fine,” she pouted, sticking out her lower lip until Zuko kissed it.

 

“I depend on you to protect me,” he told her, grinning.

 

He turned back into his dragon form, and let her climb. They flew back to Ember House, surprised that no one was waiting for them when they landed.

 

The mystery was solved when they walked inside the house. In the old dining room, cool as a cucumber, General Iroh sat at the head of the table, chatting happily over tea with all of their attackers.

 

“Ah, welcome back, Miss Katara and Prince Zuko!” he cried, grinning. “Have a seat! I brewed a pot of jasmine tea for our guests. May I introduce Avatar Aang, Chief Hakoda, Sokka, Avatar Aang, Lady Toph Beifong, King Bumi, Master Piandao, Master Pakku, Mistress Hama, and Master Jeong-Jeong? They're preparing to strike the Fire Nation Capital, and could use some information.”

 

“So could I,” said Zuko, glaring at Hama. “Like why you felt the need to curse a thirteen-year-old boy who had just been banished and hurt by his own father.”

 

“I didn't know,” Hama answered, humbled. “I had just escaped from prison, and wanted revenge against the people who hurt mine. All I saw was a dragon who needed a lesson, and I supplied it. With Katara's help, you seem to have learned it just fine.”

 

Zuko saw that she had brought the glass cover to the dining room. There was no sign of the ice lily, symbol of his curse.

 

“Even if Zuko forgives you for that, _I_ never will,” Katara told her teacher. “I hope I never have to heal anything like that again.”

 

“Will you still heal?” asked a strange man in blue. By the looks of him, he was a polar waterbender. “We could use a healer in our efforts.”

 

“We're a package deal,” Katara replied. “Where I go, Zuko goes, as a free dragon.”

 

“Katara!” protested Sokka, making a disgusted face.

 

“I mean it,” Katara answered. “I don't want to sit around and do nothing, and neither does Zuko.”

 

“I find it hard to believe,” Hakoda spoke up, “that you would fight against your own people.”

 

“Why? You're sitting with two deserters right now, and neither of them were abused and banished by their own father,” Zuko answered, pointing to Piandao and Jeong-Jeong.

 

“He has a point there, Snoozles Senior,” said the tiny girl in green. Only then did Zuko and Katara notice that she was blind.

 

“We have a month and a half until Sozin's Comet comes back,” Avatar Aang said seriously. “We need all the help we can get.”

 

“And you offered information, Uncle?” Zuko asked, incredulous. “It's like you're not taking Ozai seriously. We can do better than that!”

 

“How so?” inquired Pakku.

 

“Well,” the prince replied, turning to the little monk in yellow. “How do you feel about learning to firebend from a pair of dragons?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed :). I know Disney crossovers are usually the other way around (with the characters going into the Disney world, not the fairy tale dropping into the Avatar world), but I couldn't resist. I'm itching to make fanart of dragon Zuko, which is bad because I suck at drawing. Alas.
> 
> C'est fini! Aang defeated the Fire Lord, and Zuko and Katara became Fire Lord and Lady and had lots of dragon babies. Or something.


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